


Potential

by PuriKuma



Category: Fate: The Winx Saga (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuriKuma/pseuds/PuriKuma
Summary: Being one of the brightest Specialists of her generation did not help her feel complete.
Kudos: 22





	Potential

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine anyone who follows me on Twitter knows how I feel about Winx Saga, which I found very underwhelming despite some promising plotlines. As disappointed as I am though, I guess I did end up liking some of it, hence why I even bother writing this.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy.

It always ate at her at the very corner of her mind, knowing her magic was so weak she might as well not have it. She was born of a mind fairy father and a light fairy mother, yet here she was, with a power that at its most powerful only managed to make appliances flicker.

Magic even at its weakest at the very least still had its uses... If she really focused, she could make her phone charge by grasping it in her hand, but what kind of power was that, really, compared to the spires of flames, raging storms and orbs of water she saw every times her unit jogged past the stone circle? She might as well not have been a fairy, yet her parents did insist for her to be enrolled into Alfea.

It was a year ago, when she got ahold of the registration papers unbeknownst to anyone and finally let herself have control over one thing in her life. If she was going to be sent to that child soldiers factory, she at least made sure to join the Specialists course, where no one could look down on her.

She was never the social type and gained a reputation as a cold-hearted bitch early on. She knew about what the others - motherfucking Riven especially - said but she didn't really care. She didn't need friends when she had so much to study for and so much gear to work on. She liked tinkering with - even inventing - things on her off time. Machines only ever worked the way they were built to. They were simple and reliable. That was all the company she needed.

She took no shit and made herself a vital asset to the Specialists. That was how she made a place for herself among all those Rambo-wannabes, and gained a reputation as not only a capable fighter and genius arsenal engineer, but also as the most brilliant strategist the academy had seen since the times of Rosalind herself.

However, every once in a while, like today, she couldn't help but glancing over at her fully-fledged fairy schoolmates with envy. She knew she could be more than what she was now. If she was an actual fairy and not some halfling whose strongest prowess was turning lights on from a distance, she would be unstoppable. She would find a way to mesh magic and technology in a way that the Otherworld has never seen before. That was what she was made for, yet it was out of her reach.

There wasn't a lot of room for fantasy in a world so sickeningly anchored in tradition its inhabitants still relied on First World tech and fossil fuel. She wished the world could have ambitions that matched her own. If she had power she could change, save and improve lives. She could make sure no human is harmed by a dark beast ever again, make the world easier to navigate to those born out of luck, break down barriers and spearhead progress. Hell, she could even give fairies their wings back!

She saw all those "Ifs" pass through her mind at the moment her gaze crossed the eyes of one of the fairy girls - another one here to oggle at the boys, she would assume. It was that one redhead, Dowling's new protegee. You'd have to be deaf not to know about her these days. She didn't look the way she imagined her.

In fact, she didn't even FEEL the way she imagined her.

It wasn't like her to think like this, but something in the eyes of this girl reminded her of something comforting and warm. Maybe in a kinder world, she and that girl would be great friends and accomplish great things together.

... As if.

In the split second where she indulged her inner musings, she did not see her sparring partner's kick coming. She was swept off her legs and fell on her hip, barely managing to land on an arm before her face could hit the mat. He reached out a hand. She grabbed it and let herself be heaved back to her legs.

"Spacing out like that ain't like you, Tecna."

"Mea culpa." She swept the dirt off her knees. "Tell Silva I'm taking a break."


End file.
